I was just looking at her profile, it’s like she’s still right here, That smile she had? It’s iconic, let’s be crystal clear. I’m the only one who can access this private folder, you know, Because people just don't understand how her mind would go. She had this way of looking at the world, this specific light, But honestly? It started to feel less and less right. She was too easy to impress, too quick to drop a like, Whether it was a sunset or some guy on a mountain bike. She’d get excited about a gift or just a random bough of cherries, Like my family name and my status were just... secondary. I’ve got a legacy that’s been top-tier for nine hundred years, But she treated my "follow" like it was worth a couple of beers. Who’s going to lower themselves to explain that? Not me. I shouldn't have to tell her how a "real" woman should be. "Just do this," or "Stop doing that,"—that’s just basic stuff, But she wouldn't take the hint, and I’d finally had enough. She’d smile at me when I walked in, sure, I’ll give her that, But she’d give that same exact energy to anyone she’d chat. This grew; I gave commands; then all smiles stopped together. Now she’s just a digital ghost, frozen in that screen forever. Anyway, let's get back to the point, we’ve got a reservation, And I’m looking forward to our little... negotiation. Your family is loaded, and I know they’ll pay the price, To make sure our "merger" looks incredibly nice. Oh, and before we head out, check this sculpture by the stairs, It’s a custom piece—Neptune taming a sea-horse, if anyone cares. It’s a one-of-a-kind, made specifically for my collection, Everything I own has to be absolute perfection.
